


Red Carpet

by NiennaNir



Series: Love and Other Nursery Tales [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiennaNir/pseuds/NiennaNir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how hard you try you can't keep your incredibly cute biological duplicate child out of the public eye forever, not when you're an Avenger. Not even if Uncle Tony offers to burn down the papers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Carpet

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the other stories in this series: Jamie Rogers is Steve's son resulting from a Hydra cloning project.

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve declared through his teeth, his bright, USO stage smile never slipping even a fraction of an inch as he waved at the cameras.

 

“It’s got to happen some time,” Tony replied with a smile and a wink at one of the reporters before reaching out to take Pepper’s hand as she stepped from the limo and tucking it gently into the crook of his arm. “You might as well get it out of the way now.”

 

“Stay calm,” Pepper reminded, her charming smile firmly in place. “We have a plan.”

 

“I’m going to get back in that damn car and go back to the tower,” Steve insisted, patting Bucky on the back as he held out one white gloved hand to help Natasha from the back of the limo.

 

“No you’re not,” Bucky stated, his expression much more serious as he nodded to the gaggle of reporters.

 

“Srgt. Barnes!” one of them shouted.

 

“I am, I’m getting back in the car,” Steve’s expression was still bright and happy but his eyes were showing an ever increasing level of panic.

 

“This was your idea,” Natasha stated, smiling softly for the cameras.

 

“It was not _my_ idea,” Steve protested.

 

“Well it sure as hell wasn’t mine!” Tony insisted as Bucky and Natasha stepped down the red carpet toward the stairs that led to the front door of Stark Mansion. “You want us to drawn them off a little?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve sighed in resignation. “They’re just going to rush back to us anyway.” He leaned in at the door of the limo, one hand braced on the top and the other on the seat inside.

 

“Jamie, buddy?” he asked cautiously. 

 

Jamie was kneeling on the seat about half way down the cabin between Bruce and Betty, one small hand pressed to the glass and the other fisted in the lapel of Bruce’s tuxedo jacket. He stared out of the tinted window with gigantic eyes, blinking as each flashbulb went off, his lips parted as his chest moved in small, aborted breaths.

 

“This was a terrible idea,” Phil observed in resignation, shaking his head. Clint gave him a withering look. “What?”

 

“It was _his_ idea,” Clint hissed through clenched teeth, waving a hand at the back of Jamie’s head before leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Hey, buddy, turn around for me?” He gave the back of Jamie’s tuxedo jacket a gentle tug and the boy looked over his shoulder, his eyes like saucers though he seemed more shocked than fearful.

 

“I know you wanted to go to the fundraiser, sport,” Clint said gently. “But it’s okay if you change your mind.”

 

“Bruce and I can take you home,” Betty agreed, rubbing his back gently.

 

“You were looking forward to this,” Bruce reminded, his smile chiding. 

 

“We can turn around and come back once he’s settled with Thor and Jane,” Betty insisted, turning back to Jamie. “You can keep Thor company while Jane’s sleeping off her cold medicine.”

 

“I want to go,” Jamie said in a small voice before looking over at Steve with a longing expression. Steve bit his lip, hanging his head in resignation. 

 

“Well then we have to get going,” he replied, holding out his hand to his son with his best encouraging smile. “The car can’t wait here forever.” Jamie took a deep breath, giving a firm nod. Betty brushed a kiss on his forehead before slipping out of her seat and reaching for Steve’s hand.

 

“Do you want me to Hulk out?” Bruce offered, looking as if he were only half joking as he shuffled around Jamie, making his way toward the door. “Because I can do that and draw off some of the attention.”

 

“You are not Hulking out,” Betty warned, trowing him a dirty look as Steve helped her from the car. “You promised to take me, you are not getting out of it.”

 

“It was worth a try,” Bruce shrugged as he slipped past Steve who was shaking his head.

 

“Remember what we talked about,” Clint coached, straightening Jamie’s jacket.

 

“And stay with me, Clint or your father,” Phil added sternly. Jamie nodded, pulling himself to the door of the limo with the help of Steve’s hand. His tow head had barely cleared the doorway when the shouting started and Steve’s hand tightened reflexively.

 

“Captain!! Captain Rogers!!! Captain is that your son?” The voices rolled over top of one another like rough breakers in the ocean and Steve made a conscious effort to block them out, carefully loosening his grip. He felt a sudden surge of panic as Jamie pulled his hand free and then he blinked.

 

Jamie was holding his arms up, catching hold of the sleeves of Steve’s jacket, clearly asking to be carried.

 

Jamie was an affectionate, almost clingy child. Betty seemed to think it was simply a byproduct of emotional starvation in early childhood and had told him not to worry about it, but unless he was ill he balked at being carried, preferring to put his own two feet to good use. Steve could understand that, Jamie was much healthier now. The freedom of strong lungs and legs could be intoxicating. 

 

It had been almost a year now and in that time they’d taken Jamie to the movies and to parks but they’d always planned it carefully. Phil and Clint generally took him out in New York, Tony had been great about planning outings in places reporters either wouldn’t think to check or simply weren’t able to get to. Steve had managed to keep his son out of the tabloids, out of the knowledge of the general public for more than ten months.

 

Until last month. Jamie had wanted a trip to the beach so Tony had obliged them, renting a private island for a long weekend. They hadn’t even noticed the boaters had drifted close enough to take pictures, let alone ones clear enough to show the tiny boy building a sand castle with Steve.

 

From there it had pretty much all been down hill.

 

Steve blinked again slowly, and Jamie gave him a bright grin leaning into his arms. Without thought, almost on reflex Steve swept his son onto his hip, straightening as Jamie’s arms looped around his neck, his head tucked against Steve’s shoulder as he smiled shyly at the nearest photographer.

 

“You little stage monkey,” Steve murmured as his lips brushed Jamie’s hair.

 

“Clint said to make it look good,” Jamie replied, giving Steve a smile that was at once both sweet and impish.

 

“This is what I get for raising you with a bunch of liars and showboaters,” Steve sighed. “Good evening Ms. Everheart!” He shifted Jamie on his hip, positioning the boy to that his profile rather than his face was directed at the Vanity Fair photographer leaning over her shoulder.

 

“Captain Rogers,” Christine Everheart’s smile was almost shark-like and Steve heaved an internal sigh. He wasn’t particularly fond of the woman but Pepper was always quick to point out that her stories, at least, were factual in their content and her quotes were never mangled and out of context. Steve was ninety percent certain Pepper had something on her, but he wasn’t about to ask. “Who’s your escort for this evening?”

 

“This is James Anthony Rogers,” Steve replied. “And before you ask, yes, he’s my son.”

 

“If you don’t let me ask questions I’m going to feel like I”m not doing my job,” Christine teased.

 

“I’m afraid that’s all we’re saying about the topic for the sake of my son’s safety,” Steve stated firmly before turning to Jamie with his best grin. “Do you want to tell Ms. Everheart what we’re here tonight to talk about?”

 

“Research in genetic disorders,” Jamie piped up, his face breaking in a wide grin. “If we can fix genes we can help lots of kids with all kinds of different illnesses.” Christine’s normally fiercely polite expression contorted into a softer, more genuine one and Steve hid his smirk.

 

Gotcha.

 

“Are you excited about gene therapy research?” she asked, holding out her phone to record him as Jamie nodded.

 

“All kids should get to play and go to the park and the beach and they can’t do that when they’re sick,” Jamie declared firmly.

 

“He’s been fascinated by SI research into gene mapping,” Steve explained proudly.

 

“He’s a pistol, that one,” Christine observed. 

 

“Takes after his father,” Bucky quipped, his hand settling in the middle of Steve’s back. “Say goodbye to the nice lady.” 

 

“Bye!” Jamie waved as Bucky steered them toward the entrance.

 

“My god, they’re getting rabid,” Steve observed, the reporters and paparazzi pushing against the barricades and jostling security.

 

“Pepper wanted you to do an interview,” Natasha reminded, flanking them.

 

“I’m not telling them anything more about him,” Steve insisted.

 

“Yeah, well at this rate we’re not going to make it though the door,” Bucky snapped, looking up at where Tony and Bruce were standing at the top step, clearly waiting for a reason to make a scene.

 

Steve was never quite sure how he heard the gasp over the shouts and camera shutters but his arms tightened around Jamie, pulling the boy flush against his chest as he turned back, Bucky’s hand digging into his arm as he searched out the threat.

 

“Well shit,” Bucky declared blinking in surprise.

 

“That’s effective,” Natasha let out a resigned groan, closing her eyes as the sea of photographers receded from around them, all off them surging toward the point at the other end of the red carpet where Clint had Phil in a mostly chaste if somewhat prolonged lip lock.

 

“Hawkeye!! Hawkeye!! Over here!”

 

Clint gave the cameras a smug smile as he took hold of Phil’s hand, gently tugging him toward the door as reporters swarmed around him.

 

“Your not-dads are crazy as hell, kid,” Bucky observed, shaking his head.

 

“Will you stop calling them that?” Steve pleaded.

 

“Get inside,” Pepper ordered crossly, appearing beside them as if by magic. “Steven Grant Rogers if you waste their coming out on national media you will never hear the end of it.” Natasha’s fingernails dug into Steve’s bicep, chivying him up the stairs as Tony waved them in while Bruce covered his mouth with his hand to hide his laugh.

 

“Not funny,” Pepper reprimanded, sweeping past Bruce to join Betty in the foyer. 

 

“Damned hysterical,” Bruce insisted, struggling not to grin.

 

“Dad are you in trouble?” Jamie asked curiously, his chin on Steve’s shoulder as Bucky and Tony herded them through the open doors.

 

“Yes, baby, dad’s in a lot of trouble,” Steve answered with a resigned sigh.

 

“Thought so,” Jamie declared with satisfaction as the doors closed behind them.


End file.
